


The Doctor Brings Gifts

by nydearie



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-06 02:52:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8731996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nydearie/pseuds/nydearie
Summary: The 21st century's when everything changes, and Jack could barely handle just a taste of it. Since hell broke loose in 2009, then 2011, he has come a long way. The hub was rebuilt, a new team was formed: Torchwood 3 was back - fighting for the future on behalf of the human race, not to mention for his dead loved ones. All was different but one thing: once again, Jack waited for the Doctor. This time, for a whole other reason, and he might be making a big mistake.This was meant to be a Doctor Who/Torchwood Christmas Special cross-over. It's set after Doctor Who season 9 and Torchwood season 4. Yes, Miracle Day is in it, but trust me, yeah?





	1. The Doctor is Coming to Town

**Author's Note:**

> I spend a lot of time nagging over the lack of more cross-overs between Torchwood and Doctor Who. So after all the Torchwood we got this year, John and Gareth's reunion got me thinking of this one big plot and I just really wanted to make it happen. I tried to fit as much Torchwood as I could in it, because even though some parts of it are very messy, I just love it, so I did my best to be consistent and to make sense of it all.  
> Ianto won't be in it quite yet, but I think it's worth sticking around for when he does appear. I think you know where I'm going with this, but I won't spoil more than that.  
> I hope you'll like this! Unbeta-ed, any mistakes are mine.  
> Enjoy!

**Cardiff – Christmas Eve Night, 2016**

It was Christmas in Cardiff and the city had already been under snow for two weeks, which was a little unexpected, since snow wasn't really that frequent, not to mention that torrential. It left locals pleasantly surprised at first, but after the fourth day everybody got blatantly pissed off. Holiday shopping turned into a freezing hell with all the crowds and money-spending and a weather that was far past the point of just ‘chilly’ – more like biting cold.

For any average citizen, the only plausible explanation for the sudden cold that hovered over Great Britain was simply Global Warming. But, obviously, Torchwood and UNIT operatives, not to mention the government, knew better. The thing was, even though human race was no longer ignorant towards alien lifeforms and was headed to a future of dealings and conquers among the universe, it was still beneficial that some things would stay hidden. Nothing big like Daleks and Cybermen invading the Earth, or The 456 and The Miracle, but more superficial matters. What happened was, someone – who may or may not have been the infamous Captain Jack Harkness – pissed off the leader of an alien race that could manipulate atmospheres in general. How was he supposed to know that mating was a sacred ritual for them, not to be talked about and much less openly propositioned in front of a crowd? It wasn’t his fault, really. Just an unfortunate miscommunication. Luckily for him, since they were so close to Winter, the mistake could remain covered for a while, but he will be damned if he doesn’t manage to make amends before Spring comes around.

But that was to be worried about later on, since it was Christmas and he had his own rituals to attend. They included brooding over old pictures and memories with the endearing company of the oldest bottle of scotch he owned. He sat on the chair in his office, holding a metal box that seemed to be shrinking over the years with the amount of memories he collected, he would never stop collecting. He passed through the pictures and letters on it, smiling fondly at each fragment of happiness he had stored. He didn’t keep any of the sad stuff, the absence of those people he loved was already more pain that he needed to have. He took one picture out, a proud grin on his face, only it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Unlike the majority of pictures in the tiny box, this one was digital and he could see every detail very clearly. No match for the 51st century technology, but still a great improvement from the 19th. He brought the picture closer to his mouth, whispering “Merry Christmas” to it. “I remember you, always will", he almost chanted.

Every year, he couldn't help getting a little depressed. Memories were a very complicated part of his life: though he cherishes them, sometimes he would rather just forget and leave everything behind; the pain was too great. But he made a promise, and, besides, he chooses to remember. Quite bleak on a holiday, but still, traditions were traditions. More importantly, though, he would be spending Christmas Day with Gwen, Rhys and Anwen, as he had done whenever they had the holiday off for the past five years. Gwen was his family, the only one he had currently, and he was holding on to her, to the family that had welcomed him, with all he had.

Since they got back from the US, five years before, they had done a great job rebuilding the hub. It was more functional and modern than ever and equipped with brand new personnel. They had welcomed Martha and Mickey to the team soon after the hub was ready; Lois Habiba, who was an incredible help when hell broke loose; an intriguing young woman named Jenny, who showed up out of the blue demanding a position; as well as other three additions to the team. They were nine now and that worked a lot better: they were facing less life-and-death situations since there were many more hands on the field, and the free time was significantly increased. There weren’t many administration problems, since the Crown funded them with enough resources to keep the team going. On top of all that, Rex Matheson was a permanent CIA liaison to the new and rebuilt Torchwood 3. No one was able to figure out what made him undying, so he kept coming back and forth between America and Wales to try and figure it out. But, since they haven't really ever had many clues, the visits were less and less frequent, which made Jack utterly grateful. Rex was a good help but damn if he was a pain in his ass. Unfortunately enough, Jack was forced to call him up this holiday on a lead, which made both of them miserable. The very worst part was that they discovered nothing, and he had come all the way to Cardiff in vain. Just thinking of the devil, a noise from the main hub brought Jack out of his reverie: American nagging, nonetheless.

“Can’t believe I’m spending Christmas in Cardiff”, Rex was gathering his belongings as Jack walked into the main area.

“For someone who claims to hate it so much, you’re very well adapted with that welsh complaining, aren’t you?”, the Captain deadpanned.

“Save it, World War II. I’m really not in the mood for your smart ass remarks.”

“Are you ever?”, Jack teased with a grin, earning a frown from the American.

“Listen, I’m leaving, alright? It’s already bad enough that I’m not in my own home, since you dragged me overseas for absolutely nothing! Oh, and also, there’s no flights because it’s fucking Christmas! I’m not staying the night in this hellhole”, he snapped, storming out to the lift.

“Hey! Just because you’re cross and homesick, doesn’t mean you have the right to insult my home. I’ll have you know that this hub is a fine piece of interior design”, he feigned offence.

“Wha—Hell, I don’t care. I’m out”, Rex stepped in the invisible lift.

“Goodbye, lover”, he winked. There was really something about annoying Rex, Jack could not say he didn’t enjoy himself with the other man’s presence. Though he was indeed very relieved that he finally had some alone time before heading over to Gwen’s, given that the team had left hours ago.

Jack rested back on one of the station chairs and let out a sigh. Looking around the place, he found himself proud of all of the work done; Torchwood was his life work and even though it made him miserable at times, seeing that it still rose despite everything they’ve been through was definitely something to be grateful for. He closed his eyes and thought about his time in Cardiff, about the people he had met and how deeply he missed them. He smiled involuntarily when his old team sprung to mind; even though the hub was so drastically changed after the explosion, if he tried hard enough, he could still feel their echoes: the laughter and bickering. It was all there. Torchwood was still there, fighting for the future, in the name of all of those whom had gone doing the very same. They carried on and would continue to do so to honor them for as long as necessary, Jack decided.

Suddenly, the rift alarms sounded loudly and he stood up with a start. _Right_ , he thought, _Christmas Eve on Cardiff and the rift just had to bring them a gift_. Unknown alien object, around seven feet tall, squarish, sitting right above him – The Plass. It made the alarms go crazy trying to estimate more information about it; couldn't estimate mass, density or radiation. It couldn't be. Could it? He ran to the computers to check on the CCTV, beaming wider than he had in years at the sight. It was happening, finally. Grabbing his coat, and a small bag underneath his desk, Jack rushed to the lift, soon reaching the Millennium Centre. He took a few steps towards the object, knocking at the wooden door after a deep breath. It opened in an instant.

“Hello, Doctor. Looking good! A bit… mature?” He smirked at the surprised look on his friend's face. Merry Christmas, at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five years after Miracle Day, a lot has changed!  
> Jack meets the Doctor once again at last!  
> I wanted to portrait what happened to Torchwood after all that and mainly to Jack. That's why I wanted to mention the hub rebuilt and the new team members... That's Torchwood, ideally, for me, after everything went to hell.  
> Torchwood goes on, as it should.


	2. Does The Doctor Know It’s Christmas?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Jack and the Doctor only ever meet each other in end-of-the-world circumstances, but this time there's no imminent crisis — not yet anyway; there's time to catch up. As they find out, nothing is the same anymore, but just how much has changed?_  
>  The Doctor sees Jack differently, the side of him the Time Lord refused to acknowledge since he became immortal. Though he was aware of his suffering, he finally realizes his complexity, and doesn't know how to deal with it. Is he in for any more surprises concerning the Captain?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Let's pretend Twelve doesn't have the same face as John Frobisher, shall we?_

“Doctor!”, he laughed joyfully, leaving his usual flirtation aside and hugging his old friend, who remained still.

 “Oh. Oh. Right. Jack!”, he said over his shoulder, still caught by surprise inside the hug. “Too much hugging. I’m not much of a hugger now, you really should know.” 

 "Right, okay", Jack let go of him and took a good look at the brand new regeneration. Not bad. Not bad at all.

“Um, it's good to see you, Jack! How's everything?”, he continued, straightening himself.

 “Same old, same old. You know me, I get around. Got Torchwood. Flirting. Undying. You…”, he gestured at the new body, “You’re the one who’s changed! You look… Angry, actually.” Jack said carefully.

 “Yeah, Scottish and all that. It’s the eyebrows. And still, I’m not ginger!”, he pointed to his hair.

 "Oh, but I like it! It suits you, a bit grumpy", the Captain laughed and the Doctor smiled blankly.

 “So…”, he stepped outside and looked around, “2016 Cardiff. A lot has happened.”

 “I guess. You’re a bit late to the party”, Jack spoke wistfully.

 “How are you really doing?” The Time Lord watched him attentively. Positioned with hands inside his pockets, he analyzed the man’s features, noticing the depth of his eyes. The last time they saw each other, besides seeming a lot older, Jack also looked depressed. Deprived of the joy and youthfulness that characterized him regardless of his age. Now, though he appeared to be mending, his eyes still told the Doctor something else: Jack was tired.  

 “It was hard but Torchwood managed just fine”, he answered sharply now, a whole lot more serious than the Doctor was used to seeing Jack.

 “I know. Did _you_?”, he interrogated quickly. “I also know that you lost operatives, friends…? Their names were remembered through time. Toshiko Sato. Owen Harper. Iant…”

 “I’m just _fine_ ”, he interrupted, insisting in a hoarser tone. It was like the question physically pained him. The way Jack was acting was definitely odd, as he used to be so carefree. Time and circumstances must've really changed him, he thought.

 “If you say so, I guess”, he let go, gathering he should cut him some slack. It couldn’t have been easy to go through all of that, much less while losing friends among the process. He had been in that position way too many times to know what it was like. Jack seemed to notice the estrangement, changing his behavior within the blink of an eye.

 “I mean, you know me… Nothing gets me down!”, he chuckled, channeling back to his cheerful persona. The Doctor lifted an eyebrow at the sentence. “Got a thousand lives to prove it…”, he still muttered under his breath. He inspected the Captain one final time before really dropping the subject:  he figured it was the best thing to do for the time being. Something was definitely not right, but he would talk about it when and if he got ready. Until then, it would do no good to meddle in.  “So! You’re not even gonna invite me in?”, Jack grinned.

 “Never really did need an invitation before, did you?”, the Time Lord entered the TARDIS, turning his back on Jack, walking around its controls.

 “Heeeeeello, girl! Looking fine!”, Jack looked around the ship. He admired the time rotor and the gallifreyan writing on the top. “You changed too, didn’t you! So bright! Loved the round things.” He caressed the panels, toying with buttons and details. “Chalkboard! Bookshelves! Nice touch.”

 “Well, thanks”, he shrugged.

 “Wasn’t talking to you”, he rolled his eyes. “New levels! Very clean, very sci-fi. I like it. It doesn’t look a bit like what I remembered.”

 “Nothing’s been the same since you were here last, not even the TARDIS”, he looked around. His ship had felt too empty for a long time now. Like he was missing someone he couldn’t name, couldn’t picture. It was just a blank.

 “New companions?”, he asked, earning a little nod.

 “Come and gone.” His turn to be melancholic, he thought. A lot had happened. “Amy, Rory, River… You’d have liked them.”

 “Sorry. I bet I would”, he smiled sadly. “Time doesn’t stop for anybody, I guess. Not even for us”, the Doctor nodded again. Jack played with his hands on the control console for a moment, before changing the topic. “Speaking of which, Martha and Mickey have a baby now!”

 “You’re kidding?”, he looked at him again, Jack was beaming, “Really? Mickey, the idiot, a dad? Who would’ve thought! And Martha… Oh, good for them!”, he smiled, astonished. “Thank you.”

 “Anytime. They’re doing great. They miss this too sometimes, I guess. The whole travelling bit, not the running though, Torchwood has plenty of that”, he chuckled.

  “They’re not missing out on anything, really. They have a brand new adventure on their own now”, he nodded, his eyes closed and a small smile on his face. “I’m glad, though. They should stop by”, he replied, nostalgia taking over him.

 “Oh, they wouldn’t. They know you don’t do house calls.” The Doctor was quiet for a few moments, immersed in thoughts as it seemed. “So, how old are you now?”

 “They never told it’s rude to ask people’s ages like that?”, he said grumpily.

 “Sure. But you’re not people”, Jack barked back.

 “I gave up keeping track a while ago, so let's say 2000”, he answered after some time.

 “Me too! Well, ish”, he considered.

 “How did that happen?”

 “Long story. Still look damn good though, don't I?", that earned him an eye roll. As was expected. Jack wandered about in the TARDIS for a bit, before finally asking, "Does my room still exist?”. Jack’s tone was a little changed as he rapidly spoke. The change was small enough to leave unmentioned but big enough that he could tell. The speech sounded almost rehearsed, and the Time Lord felt somewhat less at ease.

 “Plenty of space, never get rid of anything. You know the drill.”

 “Can you show me?”, the Doctor faced him; he gave off uncertainty.

 “Is everything alright?”, he inspected.

 “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?” Jack stared at him and beamed, “Lead the way?”

 “Alright”, he walked towards the corridors, thinking about the room, urging it to appear. Jack followed behind him, fumbling with his coat.

 “Doctor?”, he called, seriously.

 “Wha--”, he turned around to face him and was met with a spray that knocked him down instantly.

 “I’m sorry”, he stared at the Time Lord on the floor, quickly holding his hands with the handcuffs he gathered from his coat. “I’m really sorry”, he said, then ran back to the cnsole room. He had some travelling to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came off pretty quickly since it's more of a build up for what's to come.  
> As you gathered, both of them are kind of melancholic over different things, let's see where this will lead...  
> Again, Ianto won't be in it for another couple of chapters, though heavily mentioned in the ones yet to come!  
> I couldn't resist giving the companions a little part, even a small reference to the Doctor's lack of memory of Clara. Painful, but I couldn't help it...
> 
> I hope you're enjoying it so far! Feedback is love, any praise or criticism is highly appreciated, thank you! xx


	3. Blue Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It's 2011 and Jack's back in Wales to visit an old confidant. It hurts him to step forward but he owed someone remembrance. And, besides, he had a decision to share... And some waiting to do._

**Cardiff – November, 2011 // Five years earlier**

A tall figure stood still near a tree, staring cautiously at the open field. Reluctant to step forward, he kept balancing in his feet, deciding if he had bravery enough left in him to face the ghosts of his past. To face the one thing he craved but could never have: an endless rest. His greatcoat whooshed behind him and he smiled sentimentally at the sudden autumn breeze. He had never done this; it was something he had avoided his entire life; it hurt too deeply. But now he had to, he owed _him_ that much. And there were so many things he had to get off his chest. He swallowed hard and headed towards the gates.

The smell of humidity and grass filled his lungs, and melancholy, his soul. As he walked slowly and unsure, his heart clenched every time he spotted a familiar name in the morbid stones. The faces would appear in his mind; some clearer than others; some remembered fondly, others regretfully. Among them there were colleagues, partners, friends, lovers. Each name – linked to an amiable face –  flew through him in a blur of letters as he passed by. Now, some were only caught by the corner of his eyes, but then, they had marked one of his many lives. In highlight, there were the names that would stick with him forevermore. Those were the ones that would echo in the void of each of his deaths, in the emptiness he was well acquainted with. All those people with such few things in common: only him and the place which held his heart for more than a century — Cardiff. Dreadfully, yet really, it was the city he _belonged_ to for over two millennia.

He stopped before one of the most meaningful names, now reduced to living in stone. “Ianto Jones” — the headstone read. The five-letter wonder. Jack sucked in a deep breath and looked up at the blank, cloud-covered sky. He was gathering strength; this was going to be hard. He batted his greatcoat out of the way and sat on the grass, facing the grave ahead of him. He stalled for a while; glanced around the cemetery; contoured each letter with his fingers. Finally, he took another breath, impatient with his own self, and started to talk.

“You always teased me for being loud. For never stop talking. I'd start a monologue during sex, you used to say”, he laughed half-heartedly. “Now I'm out of words. You'd love seeing that, wouldn't you?”

No welsh vowels came. No snarky remark. Only the sound of the wind carrying leaves through the floor.

“Met your sister yesterday. Lovely woman, beauty does run in the family. Your nephews are so grown. Great kids, they’re doing fine. Mica reminds me of you, in fact.” The words were strangled, but he kept going. “Rhiannon… She misses you a great deal. She didn’t quite say it or anything, I guess that’s one more thing you had in common, keeping a controlled exterior. But, well… I could see in her eyes, the lack of spark... I’m familiar with it”, he nodded sadly. “One thing she did tell me, though. You visited her before everything went down... So… I'm handsome, huh?”, he said, proud smirk stamped on his face. “Didn’t expect you’d ever tell your family about me. I guess it was one of those things we never really talked about”, his voice was full of regret as he punctuated the sentence. They could have done so much… “Getting to know her… Was nice. But I can see why you didn't visit much. Besides, of course, being mostly different… It’s that… Well, normality never suited you, Ianto Jones. As much as I wish it did.” The last phrase came out almost in a whisper. He soon reached a hand inside his pocket, taking the stopwatch out.

“She gave me this. Told me you would've wanted me to have it”, he smiled, though tears already fell down his face. “Also gave me your diary, and oh how I wanted to get my hands on that!”, he laughed a little – Ianto would’ve given him hell if he ever was to read more than one page of that book. He had cursed and promised ‘no sex for a week’ after Jack read the bit about the measuring tape. Jack, of course, turned that around after two days.

“Did I mention that Torchwood just got back from an overseas mission? America, LA! Sunny, hot, beautiful sweaty people. Had a girlfriend from there once. You’d think a California Girl would be a little more open-minded when it comes to orgy-related suggestions, Jeez. Still, you’d probably hate it there. The coffee was crap, even mine’s better. Hell, even Gwen’s!” He snorted. “The world almost ended, again. Only, this time, no one would die. Ironically, I was the only mortal. Yeah.” He waved in a mock disbelief, then became serious again. “It was hell, Ianto… I truly thought not much could surprise me anymore, but people lost their humanity, they got crazy. And I… I could only think about you. About how… if the Miracle happened sooner… You’d still be here.” He smiled despite himself, holding back tears. He narrated everything that happened during the days that followed the Miracle, relishing in the blissful dismissal of the knowledge that there wouldn’t be a response from his departed lover.

“And then we lost Esther. She was incredible, you two would’ve got along smashingly, I think. She was much like you; caring, loyal. Calm exterior hiding such fire. Wouldn’t fall for my charms, though. I have to say, I got really frustrated. Three other people on the team – well, five, if you count Vera and Rhys – and I didn’t get to harass _any_ of them? I _must_ be losing my touch.” He chuckled lightly but truthfully this time.

“Rex won’t die now. We’ve been trying to figure out why. I feel terrible for him, wouldn’t wish this fate on anyone. It’s just not fair.” He didn’t mean to be maudlin again but there he was, fighting a losing battle against the tears. He played with the stopwatch in his hands, passing from one to the other, when he started speaking again. “Now I understand why they say the universe must have a nasty sense of humor... You liked that thing so much, always finding ways to use it somehow… I mean, for someone who was always keeping time, you didn’t have much of it.” He shook his head, as if trying to get that thought out. “But, I guess… Truth is... You could've lived a hundred years and it wouldn't be enough. Not for me”, he sobbed.

“All the people we lose, Ianto… All the ones I will lose still… I don’t know how much else I can take. If Gwen had died, if Gwen… I don’t know what…” He rubbed his temple and kept looking down at the object in his hands. “I miss you. You always helped, you always understood. Hell, if you were here, you’d probably lecture me off my misery. You’d tell me to stop worrying about the future and do my job, save the world. You’d tell me I can do this”, he held the headstone. After a few moments sitting quietly, he snorted. “You always had to be right because you’d always know everything. But you were wrong about this. You were wrong about me. I’m not as strong as you would say. I just… am a hell of a good actor”, he looked away.

He took a few moments to put himself together, not that it made much of a difference given where he was and who he was talking to. It was just a symbol, really, Ianto wasn’t truly there. Firstly, of course, because he was long dead and Jack had seen death too many times to believe there was something after it. And also because the grave was merely decorative: Ianto’s body laid frozen somewhere in the UNIT’s facility, changeless. But seeing him like that – ever so still, cold and apathetic – was just too much for Jack to handle, so he settled with talking with a stone, with an empty, buried coffin. And that act of talking to him, telling things as he used to… It was somewhat of a relief; it fed a tiny glimmer of hope inside of him that maybe – just maybe – the rules didn’t apply to him; Ianto was listening and he was about to get an answer. But this was not a perfect world, he knew he was feeding up on an illusion. He was more familiar with death than anyone to know better. Still, he went on.

“There’s one more thing I have to say. It’s the reason I came, actually. I made a decision.” He paused for a moment, before going through with his speech. “You see, when I got off Earth after all that crap back with the 456, I was miserable. Ten times worse than I am now. I wandered off on spaceships and I was determined to find a way to bring back the dead, to bring _you_ back. I believed I might’ve been close to something but then I came to my senses. I realized that since you almost brought the world apart trying to save Lisa, you probably wouldn’t appreciate much if I did the same. In fact, I figured you would hate me if I did so. You died a hero and I just couldn’t take that away from you. You died saving the world and I had no business destroying it to bring you back”, he blinked the tears away and smiled in pride of Ianto’s bravery. He always did like Ianto’s heroism, as he said to him, once upon a time.  

“Back then, in the cyberwoman incident, you asked if I had ever loved anyone that much. Well, I have. I do, Ianto. I was a coward during all of our time together and we had so little. If I could just do it all over… I can’t bear it, Ianto. I can’t bear that you died believing you were unimportant”, he shook his head and sobbed quietly, taking a little while to continue. He took a deep breath and did so.

“Back in Shanghai, back at The Blessing, wasting our time together was the only regret I was certain I could never come back from. So my decision was…I have to see you. You have to know, Ianto. So I will wait for The Doctor. I’ve done it before and it wasn’t worth it, maybe this time it will be. I have all the time in the universe, after all. I’m doing it. I’m coming for you, Jones, Ianto, Jones.”

He got up with a weak smile on his face and batted the dirt and grass away from his legs and bottom. He turned his back to leave but suddenly stopped on his track. He turned around slowly and ran a gentle hand over the gravestone, as if caressing it. “I won’t forget you”, he muttered his reassurance to the emptiness and finally left the cemetery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little flashback to clear some things out.  
> This was the first chapter I wrote, and I really love this one. Kind of emotional and nostalgic but it was just what I was aiming for with Jack. 2000 years on his shoulders and after making mistakes with the people he loved, he learns that keeping his feelings to himself and restraining them is not the way the deal with immortality. That realisation being a big step for him, he decides to wait for the Doctor and make amends with Ianto. Will it work out the way he hopes?  
> I'm done trying to be mysterious, so I hope you keep reading this anyway :)


	4. For Old Times' Sake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Jack waited long and now was time to bring his plan to life. But with someone as clever as the Doctor, things don't work out as he had hoped. Will the Doctor find sympathy for an old friend or is it time they part ways for good? Turns out, they're more alike that the timelord expected._

**Inside the TARDIS // Present time**

_Wake up._

_Go on._

_Wake up, you clever boy._

He blinked once, twice. Everything was a blur. All shimmering lights and blipping noises. Talking, he definitely heard talking. And what was that smell? It felt like some kind of flower… Maybe? He acknowledged the metal-cold hard floor underneath him and stirred. His hands hurt. Were they… Yeah, tied down. Great. Remembrance struck him as he recognized the voice coming from a few feet away from him. Jack. Had he really put him to sleep? The captain sure seemed odd but he would never do something like this. Except he just did. But how? Oh, no. Wrong question, stupid old Doctor. Why?

He attempted at getting up, his head still spinning. Felt like he just got punched. In addition to his dizziness, his whole body felt sore, like there was numbness all over it just wearing off. Yet, he was able to make out the words, and started paying attention.

“Come on, you know me! It’s Jack! Come on, I need your help”, he sounded desperate. Was Jack talking to the TARDIS? He could hear him pacing around, probably pressing all kinds of buttons. _Good girl_ , he thought. He didn’t know what Jack was up to, but if he needed him out of it to do it, it couldn’t be any good. “I know what I’m doing, please”, a loud noise from the ship followed his voice, like the TARDIS was scolding him. “He’s just fine! Just let me do this!”, the Doctor tried standing up again, this time succeeding, even if very weak on his feet. Jack was talking softer now, and the Doctor couldn’t understand what was being said any longer. The ship went silent. He took a few steps, supporting himself on any kind of surface he could reach.

“You made me like this, you know? Could at least help”, he heard, as he approached the console room. He could see Jack resting his head on the panels, sitting on a swivel chair. The Doctor took careful steps forward, unsure of what to do in this situation. Jack was hardly an intruder, even if he was making poor choices at the moment. “I’m not asking for much…”, he tried again.

“Aren’t you?”, the Doctor defied and Jack looked up startled at the unexpected answer.

“Doctor, I can explain, I just…”, he said, getting up and gesturing towards the timelord.

“And there I was thinking I’d be free of handcuffs for a while”, he said, showing his joined hands.

“Well, you know me… Just thought we could have a little fun!”, he grinned. The Doctor lifted an eyebrow.

“Thought you of all people would like a, uh…”, he emphasized, “conscious partner”.

“Yeah, that…”, he said, getting a key from his coat. “Funny little flower from the Silfrax Galaxy. It’s supposed to put any life-form to sleep for up to 48 hours”, he breathed hard and uncuffed the Doctor’s hands. “Should’ve known it wouldn’t work on you”. He stared embarrassed, as the Doctor massaged his own fists, not looking slightly amused.

“What’s going on, Jack?”, he asked in a profoundly serious tone. “What’s so bad you had to knock me out to do it?”

“Nothing new, it’s just a simple trip to the past”, he walked around the controls faking nonchalance, answering carefully with measured words.

“Whose past, yours?”

“I guess, of sorts…”, he avoided the angry glance from his friend. He should’ve seen this coming. He planned it so well.

“Just tell me!”, he shouted, blocking his way, standing right in front of him.

“I wanna see Ianto, alright?”, he answered, turning away.

“Ianto? Ianto Jones? As in the Torchwood operative who died in battle against the 456?”

“Ha. So you do know that…”, he said in an acerbic mood.

“Of course I do. I know everything. That’s hardly the point.”

“You knew… And couldn’t bother to make an appearance and, well, I don’t know… Help?!”, he spoke over him, rising his tone.

“I couldn’t, you know it”, he shook his head.

“You always show up, I’d bet you’d be there in a heartbeat the moment any other of your companions was in danger”, he almost spitted the words.

“It can’t be always like that”, he lowered his gaze, feeling hurt. It wasn’t that long ago he heard a very similar speech. “You know about fixed points and we can’t just mess with them because it’s upsetting!”, he continued, despite the bittersweet memory.

“I know. I am one, apparently”, he sighed, running his hands through his hair. “But you don’t understand, Doctor. It was terrible. Everything that’s happened in the last few years… Torchwood was warned of all the changes that were coming but… Being out there… They fought for their race but… They’re not ready, we’re just not”, he looked straight into his eyes, searching for some kind of understanding, of empathy.

“They will be, that’s the whole point”, he hardened his voice. “I can’t help with certain things.”

“Yeah, but you could save some people. So many have died, so many more could’ve…”, he shook his head, blinking hard, trying to fight the tears away. “Ianto… I could’ve saved him. I lost everyone. But him… I… It was a mistake. So much could’ve been done…”

“We can’t do anything. Is that what you wanted? Rescue him from death?”, he pushed.

“No! No, I’m not that delusional, alright?”, he yelled. “I just wanted to see him again, I hardly got the chance to... I have to see him, I have to”, he desperately muttered over again, pacing around the ship. “Aren’t you tired? Tired of being alone? Of people dying because of you? They just… Follow you blindly, until…”, he paused, continuing almost inaudibly, “until they’re gone”.

The Doctor stared hard at him for a moment. Jack, just a human made immortal. Cursed with the same fate as his own. He had so many people’s blood in his hands, people he didn’t even kill. People who trusted their lives with him. People who even died believing he was a hero. He thought of River, whom he left to do just that. She would leave Darillium to meet with him, so much younger. To meet death. He had seen it so many lifetimes behind without even being aware of the true size of her sacrifice. It hurt him to even think further.

As he got lost in his reverie, Jack clicked on his wrist strap, his hands behind his back, acting as discreetly as he could. He was trying to override the TARDIS’ restrictions ever since the ship started blocking his commands. The wrist strap beeped, making the Doctor suddenly aware.

“Oh, no, you don’t”, Jack looked at him and ran to the controls, as the Doctor followed behind. Trying stop him, he quickly held the levers Jack was after. “Jack, be rational with me, please! You were in the Time Agency, you know this! Personal timelines are not to be messed with!”, he scolded, forcefully holding him back.

“Oh, yeah! That’s precious!”, Jack snapped, letting the handles go and freeing himself from the timelord's grip. “Except that you do mess with them. All the time. That doesn't apply to anything involving me, apparently”, he muttered bitterly then continued with a sigh, “I didn't ask to be like this, you know? You act like it's my fault. You turn your back on me, you don't look me in the eyes. You made me this way. You're so annoyed at my presence, I'm wrong, but what you don't realize... I'm you.” The Doctor looked up into his eyes, “We're the same, Doctor. We do what we have to. People love us for it... They hate us for it. And we just keep losing them”, he scratched his eyes, as some tears fell. “Tell me, Doctor, how many?” The question came through his teeth and the Doctor shivered, feeling recognition, feeling exposed. “How many people did you lose? Rose, Donna... And I'm willing to bet there's been a lot more when I wasn't around. Do you remember them all? Because sometimes... I'm terrified I’ll forget. Some memories are already fading, and I can't take it. It's the only thing I have”, there was almost a sob. The Doctor felt his resolve weakening at every word that came out of Jack’s mouth. The truth was just unarguable. He lost too many and Jack was just the same, living for so many years. Being a constant, while every other loved one just passed by. It wasn’t fair to any of them. But he could do something to at least make it easier for Jack. The captain didn’t choose this fate. If anything, he was the one to blame for Jack being like this. “I guess you just don’t understand”, he looked at Jack, as he continued hopelessly, “after all… You’re a timelord. I’m just human.” They both stared at the ground for a few minutes, flickering lights around them, engines still raging. The tension was almost palpable and both seemed too proud to break the insufferable silence until the Doctor did.

“I do understand”, it was a whisper.

“You do?”, Jack looked up in surprise. That he didn't expect.

“Yes. And I am sorry. There wasn't much to do but... There was something”, the Doctor suffered to admit it. Jack couldn't believe it. He didn't think he would ever get through him. The man never did apologies, and there was something about this speech that showed deep regret. Like the captain just touched a fresh wound. He continued, reluctantly, as it couldn't be easy to say, “I just couldn't bother, it doesn't feel right around you, Jack, and I'm sorry. I know that's my fault too. No one deserves this fate. But, as I'm sure you realize by now... We do what we have to, but we don't always do it right.” He stared at Jack for a while as if searching for acceptance. He was still for a second, then back active, rushing through the TARDIS. “So... What I'm going to do now is...”, he touched a few buttons, moved a few handles and spun the chair, pulling it in his direction, “I'm going to sit.”

“I'm sorry?”, there had to be a catch.

“I'm sitting”, he moved the chair around with his feet.

“You're not gonna stop me?”, he asked incredulously.

“Well, you're a big boy, Jack. You should know when to stop.”

“Oh, you bet I’m a big boy!” Jack smirked.

“Now, stop it”, he frowned, pointing at him disapprovingly. Jack didn’t even pay attention, going around the controls, setting the coordinates to get the timeline just right. He stopped for a second and looked at his friend, “Thank you.” The Doctor stared and nodded. Jack pulled one last lever, holding tight to the TARDIS, smiling broadly at its sound.

There he went, finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very embarrassing.  
> A Christmas fanfiction still halfway through by JANUARY. Really, embarrassing. I should've finished this two weeks ago but I was really really busy procrastinating. Ugh.  
> Still, this was a chapter I spent a long while thinking about and I'm still unsure about how it turned out, a melancholic Twelve was kind of hard for me to write. I'd specially appreciate feedback on this one, sweeties.  
> Once again, made a reference to Clara and the mention to The Husbands Of River Song was just inevitable. Especially since my main focus was to compare the Doctor's burden with Jack's, which are very similar, and the timelord failed to acknowledge it in the past.   
> If you're following this, thank you so so so much and I'm sorry for taking long to update.  
> The next chapter is kind of exciting, so try to stick around :)  
> xoxo Happy New Year, everyone!


	5. I'll Be Home For Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time Jack had waited seven years for was finally here. The most difficult time was over and he managed to get himself to 2008 Cardiff. But will he be able to follow through without messing with timelines?

**Cardiff, 2008**  

“And you're definitely sure you're not gonna run into yourself?”, the Doctor inquired. He still sat on the swivel chair with an obvious fake nonchalance: his chin resting over his joined fingers in a suspicious manner and his feet up some surface. Jack could tell he was fighting the urge to interfere. 

 “You really think I'd go through all of this just to ruin it with a paradox?”, he answered, parking the TARDIS properly. 

 “Well, how could you know for sure? It's not like you kept track of every single day”, he ironized. 

 “Actually--”, Jack started, eager to contradict him, “one thing that you really should know about Ianto Jones is that, even though he gives nothing out, he's a very mysterious and organized man. That means, _he_ did kept record of everything, and I just happen to have read it!”, he grinned. 

“It was already pretty obvious that he was the responsible one of that relationship”, the timelord mocked, earning a frown. “So, how's it going to work?”, an eyebrow was raised. 

 “Since you asked... In his diary, there was this day he was home alone, and it was the only one he stopped writing halfway. I also know from previous entries that we weren't spending many nights together, so I should be safe.” 

 “Should? Jack, if I'm allowing this, you can't take any chance!”, he stood up suddenly. 

 “Relax, I'm really sure!”, his voice was tougher.  

“And what if he tells past you about it? It would change eve--”, he started. 

“He won't, okay? But I have a plan B if it doesn't work”, answering defensively, he buttoned his coat and checked his reflection for what seemed like the millionth time as the Doctor analyzed him, finally settled. Jack walked confidently towards the TARDIS' door and stopped in front of it suddenly. The Doctor watched, his expression softening.  

“You can face him, you know. You've waited for this, you're ready, Jack”, he spoke empathetically. 

“Yeah, I know”, he had his eyes closed and nodded softly. “Thank you”, he breathed. He faced the door and walked forward a few moments after. Out of the ship, he faced Ianto Jones' front door after such a long time. The Doctor watched his back, as the ship's door closed. He left him there, set to return for Jack a few hours later. 

 

* * *

 

Jack could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he stared at Ianto's front door: a situation he had been in so many times before and yet so long ago. Even though he barely succeeded with his plan and just managed to get there, he couldn’t stop thinking about its end; he dreaded the moment he had to say goodbye once again, the moment he would walk out that door one last time. 

He breathed in and out many times; he could hear nothing from the inside, he wondered whether Ianto was home. He hadn't heard his voice in so long, hadn't seen his gorgeous face, felt the texture of his skin. Suddenly, he didn't know what to do. Would Ianto notice he was different? Should he even say anything? Was he even home? Everything appeared so quiet inside the apartment. His head buzzed and he felt his breath hitch, his heart accelerate. Was this a bad idea? What if he had to retcon him? He paced around the corridor, wondering if he should just let it go when the front door opened, forcing him to a decision. 

“Jack? Thought I heard something, what you doing here?” Jack had his eyes wide open and he couldn't quite breathe. Those blue eyes staring right at him — genuinely surprised to see him. It had been so long. “Jack? Is everything alright?”, Ianto stepped forward and grabbed his arms. Jack shied away from the touch, like it was just a dream and Ianto would fade if he got too close. Realization seemed to hit Ianto as he watched his start. “Come in, go on”, he led the way inside the flat. 

Jack stared at his back for a moment and got inside unsurely. He went in. Ianto leaned on the kitchen counter, analyzing each of Jack's features, then looking from his head to toe. Jack forced a breath out and tried to steady himself. 

“You're not from here”, he stated. “Well, not from now, at least”. 

“Yeah”, Jack managed to agree after a few moments. Of course Ianto would figure it out. 

“I'm dead, aren't I?“, he asked, making Jack wince. The immortal nodded dreadfully and then he continued, now avoiding Jack's glance, “How long?” 

Jack cleaned his throat before being able to tell him, the words coming out strangled. “In your time, seven years. But I got away for some of it, so it's a little longer for me”. 

“I see”, he answered quietly, then looked up. “I did good?”, he asked, and Jack could tell that he was truly worried of failing someone even if in death. He smiled through tears: Ianto Jones, with all that heart and that underestimated bravery. Just like he remembered. 

“You were absolutely amazing”, he smiled brightly. With his eyes closed, Ianto sighed and massaged his temple, walking around the tiny room. Jack took a few steps in his direction, his need louder than his fear. “Can I--, uh, can I touch you?”, the younger man faced him again, looking deep into his eyes with such tenderness that Jack felt like crying. 

“Of course. Yeah”, he spoke softly. Permission given, he got closer and stretched a hand, touching Ianto's cheek, who closed his eyes with the contact. He stroke his jawline with his knuckles as Ianto remained perfectly still, letting Jack have his moment. He leaned his head on Ianto's shoulder, inhaling the musky scent of his neck, running a hand down his back. 

They stayed like that for a few moments, until Jack took a step back to stare deep into those blue pools. He put his hand on the side of his neck and got his face closer until they were just a breath away. Ianto sighed and Jack leaned in, kissing his lips softly. Like an experiment, they parted and stared at each other again.  

Ianto was taken by surprise when Jack kissed him again with such force, expressing all that time he missed him and all the love he had stored away for so long. His lips parted as he welcomed Jack, putting a hand on each side of his face. They breathed each other in and fumbled through clothes for as much skin as they could find. Although, by that moment, they craved and missed each other in very different ways, they met each other halfway in their need nicely, taking that moment as both their first and last encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I'm terribly late at posting this but YASSS we finally got to their reunion!  
> So, the next chapter will probably be explicit, since I'm such trash for smut.  
> I hope you all are enjoying this, and as usual, I'll be so grateful if you care to share your opinions on this!  
> Thank you xx


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